


Five Times Someone Reached Out to Albus...

by Elvendork



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendork/pseuds/Elvendork
Summary: ...And one time he reached back.Character and relationship tags to be added as the story progresses.CURSED CHILD SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.





	1. Two weeks after sorting

Albus opens the letter with no small amount of trepidation. After what had seemed to him to be a peculiarly cold congratulatory note from his father, and a suspiciously enthusiastic message from his mother, he does not quite know what to expect when he sees Lily’s careful, clumsy handwriting on the envelope.

 _Dear Al,_ the letter reads – a safe enough start, though for some reason the nickname is beginning to irk him.

_I hope you are enjoying Hogwarts and you have made lots of friends. Rose says she is having lots of fun and she has sent two letters already but we have not had one from you at all. I hope you are just really busy with your friends and not sad because I know you don’t talk when you are sad and I want you to talk to me. I am really looking forward to Hogwarts and I want to hear all about it but James is not honest and I think you are honest so I would like to hear from you please._

_Please say hello to all of your new friends for me and write back soon pretty please._

_Love from,_

_Lily_

She has dotted the ‘i’ of ‘Lily’ with a flower. It is irritating and sweet all at once.

The letter is endearing and almost comforting in its simplicity; Lily has always been kind to him, although Albus finds he cannot help but suspect an uncharacteristic jibe in the _all of your new friends_ comment. But no – Lily isn’t like that. Is she?

Confused, hurt, and feeling unexpectedly guilty, Albus tucks the letter into his still half-packed trunk, along with three others – two from his parents and one from Grandma Weasley – all of which remain unanswered. He will face them later.


	2. October, first year

 October dawns wet and miserable and looks set to continue that way. It is the perfect excuse not to attend tomorrow’s Slytherin vs. Gryffindor quidditch match; this simple comfort makes even Albus’s growing pile of incomplete homework seem like an almost pleasant prospect.

Albus is on his way to the library, where he plans to meet Scorpius, when he is waylaid by his infuriating older brother.

‘So,’ says James awkwardly, though the brief look of triumph on his face suggests he has actually been searching for Albus for some time.

‘So,’ Albus replies coolly, not intent on making James’s inevitable mockery any easier for him.

‘Quidditch tomorrow,’ James rocks back on his heels slightly and watches the Fat Friar drift through a wall behind Albus. ‘Hope you’re ready for a good thrashing,’ he continues eventually, when Albus makes no move to comment.

‘I hate quidditch,’ Albus reminds his brother.

‘I’m glad you’re not in Gryffindor,’ James blurts, seeming to return to a planned script when he cannot think of a response to Albus’s statement.

‘What?’ Albus is momentarily caught off guard, feeling hopeful, offended, and somehow guilty for being offended all at once.

‘Well if you were in Gryffindor we’d be on the same side. You’d have to cheer for me in the match. You’d hate that. And we might have even ended up playing _together_ – can you _imagine_?’ he grimaces comically, though Albus is not amused. James shakes his head as though clearing it. ‘No, this is much better. This way you can boo me all you want, and I don’t ever have to worry about being on the same team as you. It’s perfect!’ he beams proudly, obviously sure his argument is both irrefutable and limitlessly encouraging.

Albus almost smiles but catches himself just in time and pulls his face into a scowl. It is easier than sorting through the confusing boil of emotions in his chest; easier to just be _angry_. He is good at angry. He knows angry. He _likes_ angry.

‘I have a potions essay to finish,’ he says, as though he has not heard a word James has said. He brushes past James and walks away with a strange ache in his chest, vowing never to watch James play another match – and completely missing the crestfallen expression on his brother’s face.


	3. Christmas, first year

Albus’s new jumper (the latest of Grandma Weasley's traditional Christmas gifts) is a little too big for him, and he fidgets nervously with the sleeves as his father hands out plates heaped high with delicious-looking food. Albus’s mouth is already watering. For all his father’s many flaws, Albus has to admit that he is a pretty decent cook.

Albus glances up as the food reaches him and accidentally catches Teddy’s eyes. Teddy’s _silver_ eyes. Albus frowns as Teddy winks, now only just noticing something which probably ought to have occurred to him several hours ago when the guests first arrived.

Teddy’s hair is darker. Only a few shades different from his habitual turquoise, but almost - no, undeniably - green. Something painful and unwelcome flares in Albus’s chest. He looks back at his food and spears a potato with unwarranted ferocity, ignoring all his family’s attempts to draw him into conversation and mentally composing a long, frustrated letter to Scorpius.


	4. Easter, second year

‘I drew a picture for you,’ Hugo announces earnestly. Albus looks up from his book, startled.

 

‘Why?’ Albus closes his book slowly, frowning. Hugo’s face falls. He shrugs uncertainly.

 

‘You seemed sad,’ the younger boy explains. ‘Ever since you got that letter this morning. I wanted to cheer you up, so I drew you a picture. I used my best quill and everything. I spilled ink all over the first one and I had to ask Rose for some more parchment, and – and…’ he trails off. ‘Well, I thought you’d like it.’

 

Hugo holds out a rolled piece of parchment which, when unfurled, reveals quite an impressive drawing of two boys, one slightly smaller than the other, with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Both of them are grinning widely.

 

‘It’s us,’ Hugo explains, pointing. ‘I was going to draw Scorpius because you’re always happy when you talk about him but then I thought when you’re at Hogwarts you see him all the time, but we don’t see each other as much so I thought… I thought it could be a reminder, you know? That even though we don’t see each other I want you to be happy.’ There is a pause while Albus studies the picture, struggling to think of what to say, and Hugo watches him nervously, twisting his fingers and biting his lip. ‘Do… do you like it?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Albus replies eventually, not looking at Hugo. ‘Yeah, it’s great.’ He does not sound entirely convinced. His mind is still on this morning’s post; Scorpius had written about his mother, whose illness only seemed to be getting worse, and Albus has still not started on writing a reply. He doesn’t know what to say. He just wishes he could _be there_. His patience with his family, never ample, is running thin. The house is overrun with aunts and uncles and cousins – he can’t understand why Easter needs to be so _busy_.

 

‘Umm… well, if…’ Hugo stops again, frustrated with himself, then brightens as he spots Lily running past the window. ‘If you like, you can join in our game? We’re going to play Aurors, and Rose is going to be her mum – well not _really_ her mum, but she’s going to be the Minister for Magic, and I think we can get James to join in too –’

 

‘No,’ Albus interrupts, finally looking up from the picture to see Hugo’s face as it slides from tentative hope to puzzled disappointment. Feeling an irritating stab of guilt, Albus forces himself to smile. ‘Thanks for the picture, Hugo, but… no, I – I think I just want to be on my own at the moment.’

 

‘Oh… okay,’ Hugo replies sadly. ‘Well… come and find us if you change your mind, okay?’

 

‘I will,’ Albus reassures his cousin, though privately he thinks it extremely unlikely. Hugo waves as he walks away. Albus re-opens his book and settles back down, trying to ignore the prickly feeling of guilt at the look on Hugo’s face.


End file.
